


Soak

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Age Play, Daddy Kink, Desperation, Dirty Talk, M/M, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, POV First Person, Teasing, Watersports, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 07:26:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A self-indulgent oneshot peefic. Happy Valentines day, everyone!</p>
    </blockquote>





	Soak

**Author's Note:**

> A self-indulgent oneshot peefic. Happy Valentines day, everyone!

It is a fact known only to myself that the Most Dangerous Man in London still wets the bed.

Well, it wasn't common knowledge until I awoke with a start, having crashed to the floor, twisted up in a blanket constructing my arms. I panicked on instinct— _we're under attack!_ —but instead of going for the guns, Jim was frantically stripping the sheets off our bed. I put two and two together: midnight laundry dash and a faint but particular odor in the air. It was ridiculous enough that, given the nature of our lifestyles, I started to laugh.

"Jim, what the fuck? Did you just--"

"Shut up!" Jim was seething, bundling the sheets in his arms and storming out the bedroom door, wet pyjama bottoms awkwardly clinging to his thighs.

I sat on the edge of the bed, rubbed the sleep from my eyes and waited for Jim to return with new bedding. But when he didn't come back, I braved the cold of our flat and set out to look for him. The poor bastard was lying on the sofa in the sitting room, wrapped in nothing but a sheet. Probably pouting because I laughed at him.

I touched his shoulder and felt him trembling. _Idiot._

"C'mon, babe," I said, beginning to shiver myself. "Back to bed?"

He only pulled the sheet tighter around himself, and flat-out whined when I picked him up like the overgrown baby he was.

I ran a bath for him while he leered at me from under his sheet-hood. But not even he could resist the inviting warmth of the bath. He let the sheet drop from his shoulders and agreed to wash himself off with a face towel.

"I'll change the sheets," I offered, and when I was done, I toweled off Jim and took him to bed.

 

We woke up dry in the morning, but I couldn't stop myself from teasing my big, bad, bed-wetting boss.

"Mornin', Jim. Had a scary dream last night, eh?" I greeted when he sat down in the kitchen. I also told him that "fuck off, Sebastian" was not a nice thing to say to a man who makes you breakfast every day. He chucked a shoe at my head. I ducked, and I would be certain he was glaring at me if he wasn't avoiding eye-contact altogether.

"Accidents happen, love," I called when he'd had enough and stalked away into the bedroom, slamming the door.

I didn't see Jim for the rest of the morning, but I had a hit to prepare for, so I ignored the sulking man in our bedroom as I prepped my guns and gathered my kit.

 

I made the shot, no sweat. The target arrived on time, and I was out of there in twenty minutes. Which was for the best, because memories of the previous night's events kept creeping up on me at inappropriate times. I wasn't sure why I suddenly wanted to watch Jim use the loo or crave how I knew the liquid heat would warm me if he straddled my knees while he let go—

I didn't even make it home before I had to duck down an alley to have a wank. I blamed it on the adrenaline rush, but god help me if I didn't come to the thought Jim, holding his bladder and fidgeting while he concentrated on some experiment that could not risk his absence. 

 

"I'm home," I announced when I returned to the flat. Jim quirked his eyebrows at me from the sitting room.

"I trust that everything went according to plain."

"Of course, sir." A devilish grin played on my lips. "Can I assume the same for you and that leaky bladder of yours?"

Jim flushed all shades of red. "Drop it, Moran. As far as _'records'_ go, it never happened." I suppose that was meant to be a warning.

"Sod the records," I made my way across the living room. "As long as you're good, it'll just be out little secret, yeah?"

Jim scoffed. "I don't know what you're getting at."

"I think you do," said I, "No one else has to know. You just gotta do me a little favor."

"Are you blackmailing me, Moran?" he almost sounded amused, leaning forward in his seat with a half-grin, half-snarl on his face. "I could have you killed, and then! _Poof!_ No more problem. How does that sound?"

"Like a waste of decent guns." I rolled my eyes. "Your next live-in would find out sooner or later, and your next, after you'd killed me and the second."

Jim slammed his fist on the end table in sudden frustration. "Fine. _Fine!_ What the hell do you want?"

Mm. Much better. I approached him and leaned on the arm of his chair. "Tell me, when was the last time you used the toilet?"

"Ugh, I don't know—four hours? Maybe five. What does it matter—I need to go, now."

I wasn't expecting that, quite so soon, but at least my cock was happy to hear it. I boxed him into his seat with a hand on both armrests. "This is where your cooperation makes or breaks our little deal. You don't go unless I say you can go. Those are my conditions. Understood?"

Jim looked astounded that I would be so daring, but he nodded despite hissing, "this is ridiculous," under his breath. It turned into a shudder. I backed off, confident in our agreement, and I wandered into the kitchen to find something with which I could torment Jim. "I'm going to put some tea on. Preference in flavor?"

Jim's legs were crossed now. "No," he ground out through clenched teeth.

"Oh, well. I'll just assume you want caffeinated." I heard a squawk that sounded like the beginning of a protest, but Jim knew fully what was going on here.

I should have felt a little bad, perhaps, tormenting him like this over a common accident. It's just that whenever I glanced into the living area, the poor arse was looking more and more uncomfortable, squeezing his legs together and shifting from side to side. By the time I brought him his cup of tea, Jim had his free hand stuffed shamefully beneath his legs.

I sat with him, crossing my own legs to hide my erection. My imagination must have gotten ahead of me, because I felt pressure building up inside me already.

Jim took a sip of tea, and put the cup down. "I need to go," he repeated.

"Too bad. Finish your tea."

And he tried. He really did, making pained faces as he drained the cup.

"Let me go, Moran. I'm going to piss on the fucking floor if you don't!"

I growled, my cock throbbing at the very idea. I caught the way Jim arched in his seat and rolled his head back, trying so hard not to make a sound. It was perfect. Fucking perfect.

"No, you won't. Not yet." I groaned. "You look incredible like this, baby. Can you make it to the be bedroom?" I asked, standing and reaching for his arm.

"Washroom," he argued, but I shook my head and repeated sternly, "Bedroom."

 

Watching Jim shuffle across the floor while grabbing his crotch was a sight to behold. I wanted to jump him, scare him into pissing himself right there, but he made it safely to the bed, sat, and squeezed himself even tighter.

"It hurts, 'Bastian..."

Jim's voice was so childlike just then. A pang of sympathy hit me in the chest, but I wasn't done. "Soon, baby, I promise."

I crawled into bed with him and pulled his trembling frame into my lap. He was squeezing me with his legs, trying to seek some sort of comfort, reassurance that he wouldn't lose control again.

But I had him right where I wanted him. "You've been so good, holding in all that for me." I pressed a daring hand to his stomach, my palm right over his bladder, and pushed. "God, babe, you're so full. You can let go now. You've been such a good boy..."

" _Nn_....not on the bed," Jim pushed against my chest, but I held him in place.

"You'll hurt yourself if you don't go," I offered, nuzzling the side of his face.

Jim's breathing was ragged and desperate, a fine tell of just how hard he was trying to control himself. I kissed his neck, under his ear, and bit down. It would only leave a subtle mark, but it shocked a bit of piss out of him. Just enough to wet the front of his trousers. "I hate you," sounded his defeated hiss.

"I know you do, babe, but you're being such a good boy."

I stroked a gentle hand down Jim's face, and with an affectionate nuzzle of my palm, the defiance in his eyes had gone. When he spoke, his voice was pitch dark satin slithering over bare skin. "Mm, Daddy knows best." He buried his face in my shirt and clung to my shoulders like a child. I had learned to expect anything from this man, so without hesitation, I played along.

"That's right. I've got you, it's okay— _let go,_ " I encouraged, feeling his breath come in short, hot puffs against my chest. He let go with a sob, and I felt his muscles relax before the wetness passed through the fabric of his trousers and seeped into mine. And when it did, _oh, god._ I couldn't help rolling my hips up into his warm release. My head lolled and my eyelids slid shut, and all I could hear were Jim's quiet moans. 

His body went limp in my arms. I just held him, basking in the afterglow that seemed to hang in the air, although neither one of us had come. Let it be known that it was him, not me, who began to move first. I had thought he was growing uncomfortable and I loosened my grip on him so that he could slip away if he wanted to. He stayed, however, and I was not expecting it when he thrust his hips into me. 

I gasped his name when his hardened cock pressed against mine, and my arms flew around him once again. I fell on my back and he came with me, straddling my hips and immediately setting a rhythm that I happily met halfway. The attention to my cock was nice, but the sticky warmth was welcoming heaven. 

"Did I do good, daddy?" he purred into my ear, relentlessly rutting against me.

"You were brilliant, baby. But, you made a problem for daddy." In emphasis, I bucked my hips off-beat, making him gasp and groan. "Will you be a dear and fix it, please?"

Jim seemed to ponder the question for a little while, then smiled shyly and palmed me through my trousers. "Oops," he whispered, "Of course, daddy." He undid my belt and zips while he crawled down my body, stopping only when he faced the tent in my pants. I opened my mouth, but Jim didn't have to be told twice. He took my still-clothed prick into his mouth, sucking the wetness from the fabric around the head and moaned as if the taste of his own piss was the best goddamn thing on earth. 

God, I couldn't watch. But I forced myself to peer down at the smaller man as he shoved my pants out of his way. I moaned appreciatively. "Who's the little slut that loves daddy's cock, hmm?"

"Me," Jim said eagerly, lapping at piss and precome like it was candy. "I love daddy's cock. Especially when it's all wet like this..." He looked up at me, wide-eyed and innocent-like. It was almost creepy how well he played the part. But if that was creepy, then I don't know what kind of man I was for enjoying it so much.

"May I?" he asked, and I almost lost it.

"Y-yes, baby. Use your mouth. Make daddy come."

Jim may have talked like a brat, but the lips the wrapped around my cock just then belonged to fully competent adult. No matter what role he played, Jim kept the sluttish component present at all times. I don't know if it was intentional, or if the man was simply born to suck cock, but when he stopped teasing and swallowed me whole, it didn't fucking matter. 

I ached when I saw myself disappear past his lips. He nuzzled my abdomen before pulling back, only to take me into his throat again. A hand came up to grip the base while he turned his attention to the vein, throbbing almost painfully. His tongue could have been a sentient appendage, what with the way it wrapped around my prick with unrivaled flexibility. The tight heat flared up in my abdomen. I was quickly nearing climax by the second. Jim had returned to taking my whole length down his throat, bringing me closer with hollow cheeks and vocal hums. 

Briefly panic-stricken by the decision I had to make, I sounded a warning, but instead of pulling away, he surged forward and I tipped over into bliss, spilling down his throat with such intensity that I was superficially afraid I might never stop. Regardless, Jim's greedy mouth worked me through my orgasm, swallowing every last drop. My head flopped back and my senses flooded with white-hot pleasure. I couldn't see, much less keep my neck upright. _He was my good boy, so obedient, so dedicated to making his daddy happy..._

When I could breathe again and had stopped seeing stars, Jim was sitting on his knees, wiping a bit of drool from his chin on the back of his hand. We were soaking wet with cold piss around our thighs, but if it wasn't for Jim impatiently dragging me out of bed and to the bath, I would have been content to lie there through like that the evening. 

"I'm sorry," Jim cooed in my ear when we slipped into the hot bath. It barely registered that he said anything until I caught him staring expectantly at me.

"Hmm?" I tilted my head. Jim was never sorry for anything.

"I got daddy all wet," he insisted, shrinking into his shoulders with a slight blush.

Right. We were still playing, apparently. "Mm, yeah. You did." I rubbed circles into his chest with a washcloth. "What's it gonna take you to learn that you're too old to be having these kinds of accidents?" His neglected cock twitched, and I felt a smirk creep across my face. He shook his head, and I indulged him. "Gonna have to put you back in nappies, looks like."

"No..." Jim whimpered, as if his prick didn't throb at the thought of it.

"'M sorry, babe. It'll just be until you learn. You can't keep making messes of daddy's clothes and bedsheets."

Jim fell silent as he wrapped his arms around me and hung off my neck. I continued to bathe him, stroking his thighs with the washcloth until they were red. When he picked his head up off my chest, that mischievous glint was back in his eyes. He dragged his teeth along my jaw, and laughed an eerie laugh that shook his chest but made no sound. 

"I'd like that, _daddy,_ " he wheezed, dipping the word 'daddy' in a syrupy coat of venom. _"I'd like to see you try."_

Jim was back, but that didn't matter. The game was on.


End file.
